From Ouran, With Love
by And.These.Are.Lemons
Summary: "Yes, this was the G8 Host Club. It was kind of pathetic, sure, but they lived this way, and they were a family." Crossover in which the members of Ouran's host club are replaced with characters from Hetalia. One-shot, too, guys.


___Title: From Ouran, With Love._

___Disclaimer: Ouran High School Host Club (C) Bisco Hatori  
Hetalia - Axis Powers (C) Hidekaz Himuraya (I think...)_

___Summary: What would happen if the entire Ouran High School Host Club was replaced with characters from Hetalia? That kind of trauma can only amount to no good._

_Yes. This is a one-shot. Could be two-shot. _

_It can't amount to much, believe me._

___(This shows you people what pairings I support. DX Omaigod. I'm such a Tamaki/Kyoya whore.) _

___Note: Character Matchup? SURE! (Btw, my age stuff...It's awkward. I based it off of Francis. :3 Oi. I only think that the difference between he and Arthur is correct. I'm horrible. XD)  
Tamaki - France (Francis Bonnefoy) 18 yrs.  
Hikaru - America (Alfred F. Jones) 14 yrs.  
Kaoru - Canada (Matthew Williams) 14 yrs.  
Mori - Germany (Ludwig Beilschmidt) 17 yrs. (I know that's not the set last name, but he and Prussia are brothers...hence the same last name. BECAUSE GERMANY DOESN'T HAVE ONE! D:)  
Hunny - N. Italy (Feliciano Vargas) 17 yrs.  
Kyoya - England (Arthur Kirkland) 15 yrs.  
Haruhi - China (Yao Wang) 15 yrs. (I have no fucking idea how old China should be since he isn't paired with anyone... PFFT- EXCEPT FOR RUSSIA. AND HE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT REASONABLE AGE DIFFERENCES.)  
Nekozawa, Uhemito - Russia (Ivan Braginski) 16 yrs. (Heh, I had to. X3 I needed Russia here. Because RoChu is my #2 OTP of Hetalia. :D)_

___Note V2: You'd never imagine how amazing Reese's Puffs cereal is for killing writers block! :D It saved me~_

_Note V3: Don't confront me about my choice for the twins. I have my reasons, and I stick by them. (: If you like, you can ask me though..._

* * *

"Francis, we need another host. People are piling down on us. Some girls are leaving because they don't get enough time to speak with the hosts." Arthur mumbled in a slurred manor because he was so tired. He was at Francis' house, watching the other blonde flirt with his family maid. When she was gone, Arthur glared at Francis. "Don't do that. If you got her pregnant, what'd you do?"

"I wouldn't. Still pure, _mon cherie_." Francis waggled his middle finger, showing off the ring the whole club had versions of. Each wore a purity ring, as to keep their 'No Banging Customers' rule. "You said we needed another host?" Francis tried to pull Arthur into his lap, and halfway succeeded.

"Mhm." Arthur stared at his clipboard, too tired to care if he was in Francis' lap. "They've got to be good too. Alfred and Matthew are whining about the number of girls on their tab. Ludwig and Feliciano have even started complaining. That's not like them."

"I see. We'll just have to hold try-outs for next host then, hmm?" Arthur sighed. Francis never thought anything through. Arthur would be the one advertizing the try-outs, ending the advertizement, and the one choosing which boy won. That was if anyone came at all. Well, that was his job anyway.

"A-alright." Arthur sunk into Francis's lap. He was just so tired. He could fall asleep right then and there. He nearly did.

"_Angleterre_? Are you falling alseep?" Francis smiled down at the Brit.

"A wee bit." Arthur pinched his fingers and squinted his eyes. Francis laughed at how cute Arthur could be.

"Come on, you can sleep in the media room." Francis was piss rich, Arthur was too, but his parents weren't as loving as Francis' were. Francis' parents might as well have adopted Arthur since his own parents didn't want him home. But, since Arthur was nearly sixteen, no parent could adopt him without extreme paperwork, especially when he's from another country. Though, the Bonnefoi family loved Arthur like their own. Even the maids knew who Arthur was. Even though they referred to him as 'Master Kirkland'. Francis thought it was adorable, since Arthur told them endlessly that they didn't have to call him that.

"Mh..." Francis carried Arthur down a hallway, out and into the giant media room, which the rest of the host club called the 'Pillow Palace'. It was really just a giant room filled with cushions and pillows, and a television covering one wall(1). Once Francis had Arthur settled into the large padded room, he ventured out into the home to grab some things to occupy him. Homework really.

"Is Master Kirkland staying with us tonight?" A maid tapped Francis on the shoulder.

"_Oui, mon cher_. Please get one of my older uniforms for him to wear tomorrow, _merci_." He smiled weakly. He was tired himself, but the next day was Friday, and he had work to finish. Arthur pulled all-nighters almost every night, and he ended up fresh and happy in the morning. If Arthur could do it, Francis could do it. Right?

Hopefully.

* * *

Ludwig scribbled Nuclear Physics notes down on his paper, finishing his last article of homework. He may be at a fancy school, but he still had homework.

He was about to crawl into bed, happily getting ten hours of sleep, when his phone rang. Right before he was going to turn it off. The irony made Ludwig want to throw the phone at the wall, but he knew better.

"Yes?" He didn't growl into the phone, thankfully.

"_Doitsu~ Doitsu~! _Let me stay with you tonight! Please!" It was Feliciano, like usual. He sounded like he was running.

"Why? What did you do?" Ludwig wanted to laugh, it was all too normal.

"I...Well..." Feliciano paused. Hesitated.

"Whatever it is you did...you can stay with me." Ludwig had the worst soft spot for the Italian, and all he could do was say yes to nearly anything the younger one said.

"Yay~!" He could hear Feliciano jump on the other end of the line. "I'll be there soon!"

"I'm sure you will." Ludwig spoke, even after Feliciano had hung up.

Every member of the host club was rich, and Ludwig lived in the most reasonable home. His house had only two levels, not too many rooms, and normal plumbing. No fancy dragon shaped, gold plated water fixtures, no fancy chandeliers, nothing like that. He lived a modest life with his parents, even though he had the whole second floor to himself. Feliciano nearly lived with him, even though the Italian's home was so much bigger. Feliciano's parents loved him, but he made many obnoxious mistakes. He broke dishes, flooded rooms, vaccuumed pets, went over the top with cooking. He did silly things that his parents couldn't take sometimes. Plus, he had a twin brother. With the two of them, Feliciano's parents deserved a vacation every weekend.

Ludwig pulled a pair of shorts over his boxers and headed to the door. The doorbell sang before he made it there, causing his parents to notice him.

"Who's that?" His mother looked up from knitting, his father looked up from the television. "Is it that nice Italain boy?" His mother was so kind sometimes. "What did he do this time?" Ludwig laughed.

"_Ich weiß nicht, Mutter_." His parents went back to their activities while Ludwig let Feliciano in.

"_Doitsu~ Doitsu~!_" Feliciano tackled him, and then went to hug his mother. "Mr. B, Mrs. B! _Grazie_." He kissed her hand, and shook Ludwig's father's. Ludwig noticed Feliciano's overnight bag, hanging loosely over his shoudler. At least he had clothes. Feliciano didn't fit in Ludwig's clothes, and it was a hassle to dress him when he didn't have his own clothing. The Italian followed Ludwig up the stairs and into his room. "Thanks Ludwig..." Feliciano smiled weakly and unzipped his bag. Since it was winter, everyone was ready for Christmas and all. Feliciano pulled out a Santa hat and placed it on Ludwig's head. He smiled at his work. It was enough to give girls nosebleeds.

"Really? Just..." Ludwig stared at the tiny ball hanging from the tip of the hat. "Get to bed, alright?" The Italian crawled into Ludwig's bed, not to his amazement. Ludwig followed, turned out the light, and fell right asleep. The Santa hat sitting happily on the bedside table.

* * *

"Hey! Mattie! When you're multiplying negative numbers, a negative times a negative equals a positive right?" Alfred annoyed his brother endlessly.

"Alfred...you're in the tenth grade, and you still don't know your integers?" Alfred could hear the annoyance in Matthew's voice.

"Just makin' sure." The Canadian was trying to sleep while the American stayed up late and finished homework. As usual. "Thanks, Mattie!" Right when he was about to fall asleep, Alfred would wake him back up again. Matthew hid his head under his pillow.

"Please stop, Alfred. I'm trying to sleep!" The younger whined softly. He just wanted to sleep. He hated going to school tired, it would make him so much more jumpy.

"Mattie! You shouldn't sleep so much. Get up! Do some hero work! Eat some burgers!"

"Alfred...Please." Matthew whined more. "C-could you please, please go do your homework somewhere else?"

"But my things are all here." Alfred wasn't going to move, and Matthew was seeing that. Matthew didn't know if it was the stubborness or the whine that annoyed him more, but one or the other caused him to grab his bear, blanket, and pillow, and stand.

"I'll sleep on the couch. Just...please don't mess with my desk. If you need something, please just come and ask me."

"Okay. Okay. I will." Alfred nodded and waved Matthew off. The younger walked to their huge living room, threw himself onto the couch, and cuddled into the creases. He fell asleep almost instantly.

Once Alfred was done with his work, he felt an overwhelming feeling of guilt. He could have been nicer to Matthew. He could have moved. All he had on his desk was a notebook and a textbook. It wouldn't have been too hard to move. And now, Matthew was sleeping on the lumpy couch, which would probably make him wake up with a back-ache. Alfred couldn't leave it that way. He went and picked Matthew up off the couch, bridal sty- superhero style. He carried Matthew back into the room they shared, put Matthew in his bed, and went over to his own, feeling better.

Alfred smiled at his work, and went to sleep. He promptly started snoring, waking up Matthew's bear.

Kumajirou was the only one who _liked_ sleeping on the couch.

* * *

And then there was Yao.

Little Yao with nothing to do on a Thursday night.

No homework, he was Asian for god sakes, he didn't use much time on homework. That was child's play.

Usually he would be yelling at Kiku and Hercales to keep it down, but they were out for the night.

All of his siblings and cousins were sleeping, flawlessly, without a sound.

There was literally nothing for Yao to attend to. At all.

So, he sat there. Slowly eating leftovers of Japan's noodles, which were growing cold with every passing minute. He shoved a few more noodles into his mouth, sighing in annoyance.

It was only seven thirty. There were at least four more useful hours left to the day. Nobody should be asleep now. Nobody his age, anyhow.

He stared at the noodles, wishing that they would tell him something. Give him something to do. Then, something beautiful struck Yao upside the head.

Taylor Swift's music video for You Belong With Me dashed around the television screen. There Taylor was, dancing and singing into a hairbrush microphone, enjoying herself.

Yao was supposed to be a refined guy, at least a little bit, but sometimes he had the dumbest ideas.

Within minutes, Yao was dancing around his room, dressed in the most American outfit he could get together. Rap music, his guilty pleasure, was booming through his room, and he was singing along with it. (Thankfully he had his room sound-proofed. As to keep childish bickering from bothering his studies.) He was oblivious to the rest of the world, and happily so.

Though, that was Yao. Such a spacey young boy. That might have been why he had caught many a girl, and boy's eye. Each of which he was blissfully oblivious to.

A text message pulled him from his lovely little American fantasy, and made his expression change.

It was from Ivan.

_"You'll always know that Emiem is better than 50 Cent, Little Yao."_

Yao blushed, but he continued to make a mockery of the American music genre.

There was no stopping Yao when he was enjoying himself. He was going to enjoy himself, if you liked it or not.

Yes, this was the G-8 Host Club.

Arthur,  
Francis,  
Ludwig,  
Feliciano,  
Matthew,  
Alfred,  
Yao,  
and (If you wanted to include him.) Ivan.

It was kind of pathetic, sure.

But they lived that way, and they were a family.

Set aside how different their lives were.

They were forever a family, and they couldn't have been happier.

* * *

_(1) - This is a description of a room in my friend Sara's house. It's her theater room, and the TV comes from a projector! It's so epic! See, this is why I wanna grow up to be piss rich. Just to have my own pillow palace. *drools*_

_OKAY. SO. CRACK MUCH?_

_YOU GUYS WISH YOU KNEW WHERE I GOT MY DRUGS FROM._

_THIS STUFF IS INTENSE._

_SO INTENSE THAT IT DOES NOT EXIST._

_AH HA HA HA~_

_Yeah._

_Okay, so I'm pretty sure this is horrifying, and that I broke your mind, but I always thought that Hetalia would perfectly cross over with the Host Club._

_I'm sorry I included Nekozawa in the "Host Club", but I needed an 8th character, plus, Russia needed to be involved. (/manga!)_

_Ohyes._

_JUST._

_PLEASE DON'T KILL ME._

_I'M RATHER PLEASED WITH HOW CRACK THIS WAS._

_SINCE I'M A WHORE FOR THESE PAIRINGS. (FrUk, GerIta, AmeriCan, and RoChu.) DON'T JUDGE ME._

_I'M TRYING AGAIN._

_MAYBE I'VE TRIED HARDER THIS TIME._

_ALSO, THIS ENTIRE STORY IS ALL THE FAULT OF MY FRIEND/MEXICO, SALMA, AND FREDDIE MERCURY. THEY ARE BOTH TO BLAME._

_THEIR SINGING AND PEER PRESSURING ARE THE ONLY REASONS I ACTUALLY DID THIS._

_OMAIGODIRANTED._

_BUH-BYE, BABIES. LESSTHANTHREE._


End file.
